Leaving and starting 🇦🇷 🇨🇱

My first week on the bike was marked by a surreal feeling. I can’t believe I’m actually here and doing it. It felt like something I was going to wake up from any minute now. I’ve now got a full week of riding behind me and I’m enjoying myself immensely.

All of the little day-to-day things are engaging. I am now that guy you once saw on the side of some lonely stretch of road, eating his lunch and waving at passers-by. The landscapes of Tierra del Fuego can be described as rugged, desolate, and windy. My Spanish gets me a little further every day and I’m pleasantly encouraged by my nascent abilities to ask for stuff or to express myself.

My trip started with a few more flights from the States and a short week in Buenos Aires. Buenos Aires and the Palermo neighborhood specifically felt very Euro and served as an easy transition point into South America. I’m told the rest of the continent is quite different and I look forward to finding out. Most of my time exploring the city was spent with two fun fisheries-scientists from California who are on their own trip through Argentina. I hope to see them further down the road. After one final flight to Ushuaia, I was relieved to have reached “the start” with all of my gear and luggage intact. I spent a few hours building the bike at the airport and chatting with some friendly, encouragingly curious Americans. I tossed the now badly beaten bike box and rode the few kilometers into town to a hostel. This moment felt surreal. I’ve actually gone and done it. Whatever this is, I’m here, cycling in South America and at the beginning of a journey. I’ve done it. It didn’t hurt that this short ride followed a gentle, downhill, nicely paved path with a calm breeze at my back.

After two nights in Ushuaia, it was time to hit the road. Monday, January 16th, 2023. I heard there was a national park slightly to the west of Ushuaia and I decided to head that way. Negative progress on my first day but I had begun. I spent a night camping in the park and met a few friendly folks at an informal but gorgeous campsite. I’m now in Punta Arenas and have yet to camp solo anywhere. Maybe it’s the limited sources of wind shelter that forces travelers of all sorts to congregate in (or behind) whatever they can find. But I’m enjoying the social aspect of sharing a beer at the end of a long day and gathering tips from someone who’s nearing the end of their own long journey, as mine is just beginning. This past week I’ve mostly followed Ruta Nacional 3 through Tierra del Fuego. It’s been windy but I’ve also been told it could be way worse. I’ve gotten my first bad sunburn and have since learned that that hole in the ozone layer apparently moved toward South America.

Every so many days, when passing through a larger town, I’ve opted for a night or two at a hostel and a warm shower. The first was in a small, industrial city called Rio Grande. Shortly thereafter, I left the RN3 and crossed into Chile where the road quickly turned to ripio (gravel). I met my first fellow Dutch traveler and took a small side trip to see a colony of king penguins. The local municipality builds small, simple refuges to shelter travelers from the elements (i.e. there is literally nothing to shelter your tent from the wind, so these small huts are a huge blessing). As I was falling asleep on a bench in the hut, comfortable and safe, I felt incredible. I was exhausted from a windy day of cycling but I had just eaten a huge meal of spaghetti and canned tuna and I was dozing off as the late evening wind began battering our little shelter. This is the stuff I dreamt of as a kid, I thought.

The daytime work of actually cycling is going well. The wind has been agreeable so far and I enjoy meeting other cyclists and stopping briefly to chat. So far, I’ve only met those going in the opposite direction but I think that’s just a matter of probability. People from all walks of life are out here and they all have a story to tell. It’s a brief 10-15 minute chat, ask if anyone needs anything or if there’s anything interesting up ahead, and then “see ya later!”

I’ve also met two fun Swiss couples travelling the Pan-American Highway by truck and have repeatedly bumped into them here and there. The serendipity and chance of it all is often hilarious and one of the small joys of it all. I’m gradually learning where I’ve packed all of my things in my bags, my mornings are getting faster, but I’m also not trying to be in a huge hurry. The landscape of Tierra del Fuego was quite barren at times and didn’t offer a whole of variety, so sometimes that did just feel like pedal pedal pedal! Every now and then it’s fun to stop and scream loudly. There’s nothing here. But now that I’ve crossed the Straight of Magellan, I’ve been told the wind can still be bad but that the towns are more quaint and the landscape even more beautiful.

Campsite selection has also been entertaining as I’m often opting for old, abandoned buildings or asking the police if I can sleep on the lee side of the precinct (or in it), which they’re usually happy to oblige. At the Argentinian border, I camped with a Belgian couple in a waiting room. On my second night, I camped in a deserted holiday cabana on a beautiful lake with two Argentinian motorcyclists (see picture above). I’ve been carrying two beers with me most evenings and I got a chance to share one with an Italian fellow walking around the world as we camped behind a firehouse.

This first week has been marked by that surreal feeling I’ve tried to describe. It somehow feels like I’ve been away for a month already because everything is so novel and new. We’ll see what the road holds up ahead, but for now, life is good!